


Attempted Stories

by MrKek



Category: Original Work, Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Gen, Original Character(s), Science Fiction & Fantasy, Self-Insert, Short, Supernatural Elements, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:49:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28918611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrKek/pseuds/MrKek
Summary: A collection of stories that I couldn't be bothered to continue, or whatever I feel like putting here.
Kudos: 1





	1. Willpower

**Author's Note:**

> I should say that some of these stories will just cut off, like this first one, which is set in an alternate reality where every human's will is an actual reality-affection power.   
> Title: Willpower  
> Word count: 4403  
> Original Work

Willpower  
Chapter 1

The Council of Ten. The ten, most Willful humans in Voluntas. They’re just as mysterious, just as unknown, as the original Ten. The Council isn’t as Willful as the original Ten, of course, but they’re all able to lift the Capital Monument. Supposedly. Considering how little information exists about them, I can easily see that being a lie. I mean, the Capital Monument is absolutely massive and some people posit that it must go deep into the ground, or else it would have fallen over already.

Hm. Whenever I think of the Ten, the original Ten that is, I always wonder. They created Voluntas, literally saving humanity, and they stuck around long enough to build up our nation. I can understand why so many people revere them… But I still wonder. We know virtually nothing about them; there’s, somehow, only one photo of them. All Ten of them, wearing robes that covered their features, facing away from the camera. 

So, I wonder. What they looked like, what they liked, what they disliked. How did they act in general? Well, I had no real idea, but I liked to imagine. I know I’m not the only one; who they were was a common topic, growing up. But it seemed like the other orphans would picture them as stand-ins for parents, whereas I was just curious of their memory, and awed by their feats. I do wonder, once in a long while, if I was related to them. Humans weren’t as Willful as we once were; sure, most people could still move small objects. But I could do a lot more than that.

Maybe, compared to today’s standards for Willpower, I was like them? Hm. Maybe I was like the other orphans, just a little bit...

I shook away the thoughts; no need to reminisce over the past. I glanced once more at the Council of Ten’s symbol, that had started this train of thought; a white, hollow decagram that resided over the building’s doors. I checked my watch instead. It was a new smartwatch, supposedly from Senteralis, and yet it had “Made in Macerland” stamped on the back. Unsurprising. However, all thoughts of its misleading branding left my mind as I saw the time displayed on the watch.

I immediately bolted from my seat, heading straight for the stairs that led to the underground boarding for the Magtrain. Right as I hit the last step, I saw the last train attendant scan the last ticket and follow after the passenger. I almost sighed as I realized that I was a second too late. The doors started to close, and I just hoped I wouldn’t stand out too much.

I didn’t stop my sprint to the Magtrain as I slightly focused, and exerted my Will on the train door closest, directly across from the stairs. If it wouldn’t have been an even more blatant use of my Will, I would have Willed myself to sprint faster. Alas, I decided that it was too obvious. I mean, it isn’t illegal, but there are few things I hate more than standing out. Right as I was within arm's length of the door, the attendant kicked it out of frustration; as his leg came down, I let the door start to close again.

His face held a split second of surprise, before his training kicked in and he grabbed the ticket I was suddenly offering. It ripped a bit, as he essentially tore it out of my hand, but he was still able to scan it and point me in the right direction. I thanked him and made my way down the train, getting a few odd looks as I passed by. I couldn’t help the blush of embarrassment that probably tinged my small, nervous smile.

I’m not actually insecure. I just hate standing out, for a very simple reason, a reason I learned when I was a kid. When you stand out, people expect more from you. Not, necessarily, positive expectations… but expectations nonetheless. The weight of those expectations were a bit uncomfortable for me. 

Of course, I was still embarrassed that I was so late. I took my seat and decided to move past that bit of embarrassment. Instead, I focused on my destination. 

CDU, Central District University. The best University in Voluntas. So, the best in the world. It was located near the center of the Capital District, but the campus technically reached the Southernmost part of the District. It was home to one-hundred thousand students; the biggest, therefore the best. So many people tried to attend every year that the school had about a one-percent acceptance rate.

It was my ticket to living a quiet, relaxing life. I just had to go there for a few years, get a degree in finance, and then make enough money to retire young. Then I could do some traveling; I’ve lived in Deuton my entire life, but there’s a whole six other Districts. Districts that are, let’s be honest, much more interesting than Deuton. 

Ametown’s beautiful forest, Kasten’s massive lake, Senteralis’s magnificent skyscrapers, Macerland’s sprawling array of buildings, Capital District’s architectural marvels. Oh, and Lind’s farms and stuff, but everyone thinks Lind is boring, even the people that live there. Hm, maybe Deuton isn’t the least interesting District.

I smiled slightly as I watched the tunnel walls zoom by. Deuton and Lind have always had a small rivalry; we destroy the ground with our mines, and Lind cultivates it with their farms. A very silly rivalry, that few people took seriously. As I humored myself, I put my feet up on the wide Magtrain seat, my back propped up on the wall. My thoughts precariously drifted to a recent conversation with one of my schoolmates from a year ago; he mentioned that the transportation in the Capital District packed people in like straw in a hay bale.

That’s right, he kept reminding people that he was from Lind in indirect ways, like that hay bale expression. I wonder if it was a conscious thing? Or a superiority complex? I wonder where he is now? We weren’t friends, but we ate at the same table most days, so we were at least friendly. Oh well, I’ll make new acquaintances in the Capital District, at CDU. Maybe. I looked at my watch, checking the time. 

Magtrains were incredibly fast, but this one stopped at Senteralis for a bit, which meant it was nearly an hour-long trip. I checked my watch again, to confirm; it had only been five minutes. Good, I have a lot of time to sit back, relax, and maybe take another nap.

When I felt the Magtrain stop, for the second time, I finally opened my eyes. The benefits of being Willful; sleep comes when I call, like a loyal dog. So, unlike the plebs on the rest of the train, I got off with a pip in my step and energy in my soul.

The boarding zone looked the same, and when I made my way upstairs, the station’s interior looked the same too. However, the view that I could see through the glass of the doors and windows was completely different. When I looked out the windows at Deuton Station, I saw the dense center of Deuton; tight streets, tight with people, bordered by tight buildings. Really, tight is the best word to describe central Deuton.

However, the Capital District wasn’t so tight. It still had some density, but it had areas of openness. Like, for instance, the park that sat across the street from C.D. Station. I could see a couple drinking wine on a park bench, looking merry. It was only 8 a.m, and yet people were already celebrating New Year. Granted, it was only two people, but I still found it interesting. I didn’t have anything I needed to do immediately, so I began walking on the park’s path.

It went in a straight, single line through the center of the park, with a few places where it split around a sculpture. The first one was a weird, curvy, abstract piece that I didn’t know how to properly describe; when I walked around and saw it from the side, I could see the word “Capital” come into focus. When I was past it and looked back, I saw the word District. It made me frown, as my brain was having a hard time comprehending how it did that.

So I forgot about it before I gave myself a headache. I kept walking, taking in the sudden colorful pallet that this stretch of the park had; I didn’t know there were so many kinds of flowers, or that plants could be so colorful. Though, they could be artificially colored. I wasn’t surprised that the second sculpture, in the very center of the park, was a decagram. The District managed the parks, and everything from the government had a decagram on it.

I was simultaneously disappointed and happy that the final sculpture was the same as the first one; disappointed that it wasn’t a new one, and happy that I could marvel again at the optical illusion. When I reached the end of the path, the street, I looked around for the signs that led to the University. I didn’t see them, so I just kept heading straight, towards what I think was South.

Eventually, I saw a sign that pointed in the right direction and I realized that I had been walking parallel to the University. In fact, it was just on the other side of the buildings to my right. I sighed, and not for the last time I considered flying there; unfortunately, that went against my personal creed of not standing out.

So few people can fly anymore. I remember one of the elder workers at the orphanage talking to another worker about it; how so little people fly. I smiled fondly when I recalled the face she made when I flew onto the table she was sitting at. Ah, to be a kid again. The lack of freedom would suck, but it was nice to not care or think about what other people thought.

I continued my way towards the University. I made it there within a few minutes, but my room was a ten minute walk from there, and then I had to walk ten minutes back to get a copy of my key, and that took a few minutes, and then I had to walk another ten minutes. My point is, I could have had an extra half hour to relax. Luckily, I had a week before class started. Hypothetically, I could relax for seven days. Practically… It was Day 1 of the New Year 250, which meant New Year celebrations. Or, New New Year celebrations?

Either way, all of Voluntas would begin celebrating within the hour. Well, some people had already started, but most hadn’t. Normally I couldn’t be bothered to celebrate the New Year in public; too many people in too small an area. However, it was not only a new decade, but I was a new adult, and I was new to the Capital District. Might as well eat some unhealthy food and drink some wine.

With my plans set, I took off my shoes and jacket, and settled down on my new bed. Within a second, I fell asleep.

When I woke up, it was exactly 10 a.m, about two hours later. Festivities started an hour ago, but the first hour is always boring, so I decided to skip it. After a minute of simply lying on the bed, enjoying the peace, I moved to equip my shoes and jacket. I Willed myself clean and fresh as I opened the door, and set about my journey to enjoy this Year’s celebrations. First step; someone that knows where the hell the main celebrations are.

I only needed to walk away from the dorms to find a campus bus that took students to the South end of the campus. Apparently, the University had its own celebrations, solely for students. Considering how many students they had, it was a massive, concentrated gathering. Almost felt like home, unfortunately. I also realized, as the bus stopped, that it didn’t go to the Southern edge; it stopped a good ways away. 

It was a shame, as it meant I had to make my way through throngs of people. Lots of going, stopping, going, stopping, on and on. I realize after a few minutes of this stuttering movement, that it was going to take a while to get a good view of the Ocean. So, I made several detours, trying an assortment of various snacks and candies. I tried some wine, and realized I hate the bitter taste. I ate all the candies, though. I wouldn’t say I have a sweet tooth… No, I would.

I wouldn’t say it’s a bad thing, considering I can just Will myself to perfect health. Truly perfect health, not just making my outside look healthy and making me feel healthy. Luckily, it’s not something that can make me stand out in a crowd, unlike flying. When I’m retired, I’ll fly around all of Voluntas. Maybe. Sounds exhausting, but it may be relaxing. 

The music had been playing since the celebrations began, but I was only now close enough to hear it properly. It wasn’t something I’d listen to on my own, fast and loud, but nonetheless it fit the festival. My head bobbed of its own volition, in time with the beat. It really wasn’t my sort of music, but I still stopped to listen to it, and to take in the spirit of the festival. There was enough excitement and happiness in the air, that I could almost taste it.  
It was almost noon when I finally reached the Southern edge of the campus. The line of buildings—labs, dorms, lecture halls and whatnot—opened up to reveal The Ocean. The magnificent body of acid water that surrounded Voluntas, nearly three hundred feet below. I leaned against the short stone “wall” that went around the perimeter of Voluntas, made to keep people from falling to their death.

I, of course, had nothing to worry about as I hopped the stone perimeter and walked to the very edge of the sheer cliff. The view I had, as I cast my gaze out, was magnificent. The Capital District was in the middle of a square bay; the bay was there because of the island thirty miles away. The original Ten had created a two-hundred mile bay when they made Voluntas, two-hundred and fifty years ago to this day. On this day, one-hundred and fifty years ago, the day they died, the original Ten made the Capital, leaving behind a thirty-mile wide bay.

And on that island, the Capital, on that same day, they made the Capital Monument; one mile tall, and a thousand feet wide, it stood as a testament to Humanity’s Will. A symbol of the power that we hold within us. It was meant to be a symbol of our collective power, but I couldn’t help but see it as an imposing tower of solid metal that showed the Ten’s power. I couldn’t help but think of it as the mark of a tyrant, showing themselves to be above everyone else.

Of course, the Ten were anything but tyrants. It was simply a weird feeling I got; mixed messages from a century and half ago. I still marveled at it, even if I didn’t like it. I could see clouds at the very top of it, which brings me to the other reason I wanted to see the Southern view of Voluntas. 

The weather.

In Deuton, we can see the Northern and the Western weather of The Ocean. We’re all taught of the volatile weather of The Ocean, and the four types that roughly line up with cardinal directions; North, East, South, West. We’re also taught that the Ten made Voluntas safe from this extreme weather, but I can’t imagine how. Personally, I think they found an area safe from that weather and made Voluntas there, but it doesn’t matter.

Anyways, learning about the weather, and actually seeing it are two very different things. I remember the orphanage workers taking us on a trip to the North-West corner of Deuton, not long after we learnt about these cardinal weathers. Seeing the great lightning storm on the horizon, North of Deuton, was way different to hearing about it. Seeing the Western tornados; massive beasts of swirling wind and water, mile wides, was amazing. 

I mean, the sheer scale of them, looking massive even when they were miles away! The Eastern and Southern Weather were less flashy than the Northern lightning storms, and not as scary as the Western tornados. To the East is constant rain; so dense, that you can’t see past them. In the South, it’s similar, but instead of rain, it’s snow. A curtain of white, if you will. An ever present blizzard, with temperatures low enough to create a thick, fractured layer of ice on the Ocean.  
The Capital was close enough to the Southern weather, that there was always a light layer of snow on the island. It was peaceful, if you didn’t look past the Capital and at the raging blizzard not far from it. Looking at it, this symbol of Humanity’s Will, it began to feel not like an imposing figure of tyranny… but like a stubborn middle finger to damnation. A symbol that showed Humanity’s Will to survive, our will to succeed. I felt pride.

Then, I saw a flash of hot, white light.

My eyes burned from the intensity of it, making me blind for a few seconds, before I Willed myself to heal. When I looked again, I froze.

Before me, forty miles away, was the Capital Monument.

Destroyed.

Chapter 2

The Capital Monument. The imposing testament to Humanity’s Will.

It was half its normal size.

I managed to see the tip of it sink below the thick sheet of ice and disappear. The remaining half stood, its top jagged and uneven.

It was as if, in a single moment, someone removed the top half of it.

I fell to my knees, my mouth agape, as I stared at the ruin.

After a few minutes, I heard the boom from the explosion, so far away it was. This knocked me out of my stupor, but it took me a second to realize what I had to do. Honestly, I wanted to fly to the Capital, and Will the monument back together. I don’t know if that was even possible, but it was still my initial instinct. However, after a second of thought, I realized that would be a terrible idea; everyone would be looking at the Capital Monument. If they saw me, flying there…

I don’t want to be labeled a terrorist, thank you very much. After I decided against that plan of action, I realized I needed information. My dorm room had a T.V., so I could check the news; they would definitely be saying something, maybe something important. Without considering the consequences, I blasted into the sky as fast as I could. I didn’t know exactly where my dorms were, so I Willed myself toward my dorm room. 

Willpower isn’t quite omnipotent, but it can be treated as a simple intelligence; I don’t know where my dorm room is, but I know it exists, so take me to it. At least, that was what I’d gathered. Willpower is complicated, so one can never be too sure. However, I was sure of this, as I blasted towards my dorm room. As I approached the roof of my dorm, I realized I had a split second to make a decision.

Flying with Willpower is tricky, it’s something that takes practice. As it was, I didn’t have practice. I simply threw myself in a direction. Meaning, I wasn’t constantly controlling my flight. So, as I was, I couldn’t stop myself from crashing into the roof. Well, I couldn’t redirect myself quickly enough. Maybe I could have, but what I ended up doing was making a split decision to make the roof move instead. It separated, a line directly to my room, which gave me enough time to slow down and not break every bone in my body.

I took a moment to calm down; I always try to take my time, because rushing like I just did is problematic. Granted, this was a major emergency, but still. I gotta keep my calm. It took a bit, but I managed to calm myself without resorting to Willing myself calm. Once I was, I Willed the hole in the roof closed and turned on the T.V. It was about four minutes after the terrorist attack.

The news reporter wasn’t saying anything I didn’t know, nothing important. But I kept watching, waiting for actual information. After another minute, five total minutes from the attack, I got that actual information. It… just wasn’t quite how I imagined it. The screen flickered to black; the T.V. wasn’t off, the network was just showing black. A second later, it switched back to a person.

But it wasn’t the news reporter. 

“Greetings, citizens,” It was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a woman just as tall, but less broad, beside him. It took me a second, but I realized where they were; the studio of the National Broadcast Service, based here in the Capital District. 

The man adjusted the tie he was wearing; him and the woman beside him were wearing matching, black business suits, “I am the leader of an organization known as Humanus,” he said in a deep, baritone voice, “I am sure you are all familiar with our work,”

The scene on the T.V. changed to a view of the destroyed Capital Monument. After a second, it switched back to the man and woman, “That Monument was nothing but a lie; it has always been a symbol of the power they hold over us. Make no mistake, we are not your enemies. No… the real enemy, is the Council of Ten,” I wondered, in a brief moment of dissonance, how he could speak clearly through the blank, solid mask that covered his face.

“I do not make a baseless claim; simply look to the past, and you will realize what they have done to us,” he continued on, “Forty years ago, nearly everyone older than thirty could fly. However, only a percent of a percent of people under the age of thirty could fly. This is because the Council of Ten have been taking measures for the past century to suppress our Will. Our greatest aspect, and they seek to suppress it. How have they done so? You may ask; two ways, one indirect, one direct. The indirect way, is through teachings. Yes, teachings; words.

“If you look back, you can see for yourselves that the way the young are taught has changed over the years. The major thing that they have been teaching? That certain things are fact, and therefore, unchangeable. Gravity exists, and pulls you down to the planet, and can’t ever let you go. They root ideas like these in our very subconscious, from a young age. If gravity never lets you go, then that means you can never fly.”

I continued to stare at the man speaking, right where his eyes would be if they were visible. Him and the woman were so calm, even though there must be N.L.E. agents about to bust into the room and arrest them. The man was talking, and my ears remained on his words, but my eyes drifted to the woman. The suit was tailored to her figure, but it wasn’t her body that distracted me. She wasn’t moving, she wasn’t breathing. She was just standing there, and it unnerved me. I kept looking for signs that she was alive, even as I listened to the man.

“Then, there is the direct way. Just as subtle, but done through physical means, and not mental persuasion,” he held up a small, colorless, circular pill that he pulled from his breast pocket, “This chemical has no official name, as it does not officially exist, so Humanus has come to name it Willbreaker. The name may give you a hint as to its effects, but I shall describe exactly what it does. A single pill is quite potent; if you were to swallow the dose that I hold, your liver would curl up and die. You would follow your liver shortly after.

“Luckily for you, the dose in the water supply is spread thin enough to not kill you immediately!” he said, with fake cheer prominent in his voice, “You’ll merely lose a few decades off your life, but don’t worry, one of the side effects of this drug actually makes you happier! This drug, along with making you slightly happier, also makes you more accepting! Accepting of things you can’t change, like…” his voice lost the fake chipperness, “gravity. Yes, these two ways combine, further suppressing your Will.” The man straightened his back.

“Our goal is not to terrorize the people. Destroying the Capital Monument was not our preferred way to gain the nation’s attention, but it wasn’t a monument to our Will. It was a monument to their power. Not the original Ten, but the Council of Ten. Anyways, we’re just about out of time, so there’s one more thing to say.

“If you wish to join us, to help us fight against the Council’s treacherous suppression of Humanity’s Will!...” he had stepped closer to the camera with those last few words, raising his voice as he did so, “Then we will find you,”

The woman nodded, her very first movement, and the footage cut out. I Willed the T.V. off.

I sat there for a long while, taking my time. I had been standing the whole broadcast, so I sat down on the bed, holding my hands in my lap.

Will suppression. I shook my head. Let’s look at this logically. 

They committed an act of terrorism, destroying a historic monument. I’m not even sure how they managed it, but I guess they wouldn’t have guards at the Capital.


	2. Right Back at You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Worm CYOA SI/OC fanfic that I started a while ago. It's set about five years after powers appear, and part of why I stopped writing it is because I wasn't comfortable with how little specific info there is about that time. Really, I only started this because I liked the power scheme I came up with (check end notes), but I didn't have a concrete plan. Maybe I'll try again with this build, but at a different year.
> 
> Title: Right Back at You (RBaY)  
> Word Count: 5419 (I have another 1600 words, but it's nothing I would consider important)  
> Worm (Wildbow)

Chapter 1

=====

1987

It was almost like I was falling, but I didn't have a body that could fall. Maybe something was dragging my very being, my soul, downwards. It's an odd thing, but that's all I can recall before I awoke here, face down in a dirty puddle in some trashy alley. My initial response to being in such a gross and uncomfortable position, along with the previous falling sensation, was to eject my guts like I just drank a gallon of vodka. I'm not even sure that's too much of an exaggeration, it was incredibly violent.

After that violent ejection, I managed to sit against one of the walls of the alley. I felt better after a few minutes, suddenly feeling hungry. I was also quite dirty, having slept in a filthy puddle. That thought made me jolt up to my feet as I felt anxiety and confusion grip my heart. My eyes darted to both ends of the short alley, hoping for something I could recognize. Nothing, obviously.

I didn't know this place, nor how I got there. I felt my anxiety spike when I couldn't feel a phone or a wallet on me; all I had was a filthy black t-shirt, jeans, and $4 worth of quarters. That made me pause in my anxiety attack for a moment, finding 16 quarters in a pocket, but that brief respite didn't last. Eventually my anxiety lessened, and I realized that I had to do something. Multiple somethings, actually. I tried to focus on forming a mental checklist instead of blindly panicking.

What did I need the most? To find out where the fuck I am. I also needed clean clothes, and a good meal. I was already pretty skinny, and now I had a completely empty stomach. Who knows how long I'll last without food?

No matter what, I needed to leave this shitty alley. I looked at both ends of the alley and perked up when I saw a glowing laundromat sign on the front of a small building, directly ahead. Looks like I'll be able to hit two birds with one stone.

The laundromat seemed quite outdated, but from what I saw when I crossed the street, so was the rest of this area. There was only one other person here, a guy that was just sitting in a chair overlooking the machines, but I paid them no mind. I made my way to the closest washing machine, stopping right in front of it as I realized that I would have to wait around without a shirt on.

I didn't have much of an option, and there was only one other person here. The shirt was soaked in the front and smelled like garbage, so I took it off.

=====

I was bored as I waited for my shirt to dry. There was nothing else to do but watch it spin; this shitty laundromat was depressing. I looked at the only other guy in here, reading a newspaper and occasionally glancing at me. I wondered, what if-

"Uh, excuse me?" I called, moving closer to the stranger and getting his attention.

"Huh?" he responded; he must have been surprised that I could actually talk.

"Where am I?"

"What do you-"

I blinked and looked around. I hadn't moved. The dude was still reading his newspaper.

What the hell just happened? I've never hallucinated, but what just happened felt like it _ literally just happened _ . And yet, it seemed as if nothing happened.

I was completely, utterly confused. That was the weirdest moment of my life, and I wasn't sure what to feel. Am I crazy? I didn't feel crazy, but if I was crazy how would I actually know? Maybe when something like what just happened actually happens...

Well, I guess I could find out if I'm crazy.

"Uh, excuse me?" I called, moving closer to the stranger and getting his attention, just like I remembered.

"Huh?" he responded, making me feel a sudden sense of dread.

"Where am I?" My voice didn't sound as shaky as I felt it should.

"What do you mean?" He looked at me, confusion evident on his face.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the truth of the situation hit me. Somehow, I just simulated exactly what just happened. This is the literal definition of déjà vu. As it was approaching major awkwardness, the dude answered my question.

"Uh, you're in Brockton Bay?" His confusion made it sound like a question, but I didn't pay any attention to it. I recognized the name immediately, then I realized the truth of what I just did, "Hey, are you alright there? You seem-"

"I'm fine," I said, quieter than I meant. I walked back to my dryer, anxiety-no, panic- gripping my heart.

I was in  _ Brockton fucking Bay _ . Which means I'm in fucking Worm. I slid down the washer opposite my dryer, sitting on the cold tiled floor. This was... very stressful. I just sat there, stressed, with my mind in a complete mess. My dryer stopped, and I just stared at it for a couple minutes, before putting on my now clean shirt and walking out of the laundromat.

I stood in front of it, staring up at overcast skies as I tried to calm myself. Deep breaths, in, hold it, out. I repeated the exercise until I felt better, a shaky laugh escaping my mouth. Once I felt relatively calm, I looked around, taking in my surroundings. I didn't know where in Brockton fucking Bay I was, but it looked pretty shitty.

I shook my head, and started walking towards the better looking buildings I could see in the distance.

=====

I'd been walking for a while, thinking about my situation.

I was in a fictional universe, somehow. I didn't bother trying to understand how I got here; I had no way of knowing, so it was a waste of time. As I found myself here, I found myself with a superpower. No, multiple. Now that I knew that I had a power, I could feel it like some sort of mental muscle, along with another one. Plus, I could feel two other, more passive powers. I only know for certain what one of them does; I could simulate the future. I actually timed it, counting in my head. If I'm right, I can simulate the future up to 5, maybe 6 seconds. Once time is up, or if I cancel it early, I'm back to the exact moment I activated it.

It felt weird, adjusting this quickly to such an impossible situation. I guess humans are just adaptive creatures, or maybe it's something else. Either way, it was easy to use this power, and of course I wanted to know what it could do.

I used the power a few more times, realizing that I could constantly run these simulations. I could tell, because I walked around the same corner about twelve times. It's like I can stop time and do whatever I want for five seconds, then time resumes and it never happened. As I walked into a more populated area, I tried my other activating power, but nothing happened. I could feel that it's active, but I see nothing. It's almost like I got a faulty power, but I imagine that's impossible, with how advanced and complicated shards... are... Shit.

My good mood immediately vanished as I reminded myself that I'm in the shit show that is Worm.

Entities.

Scion.

Gold Morning.

The thought of it made me feel an incredible sense of dread. If this is Worm as I knew it, then that's going to happen, and billions are going to die. I would probably die.

I shook my head of the depressing thoughts. I vaguely remembered how it happened; Jack Slash running his stupid mouth to Scion, or something like that. If I killed him... the world would still end, eight years later. That was the thing, wasn't it? Two years or ten until Scion starts killing everyone. Fuck, what if it's already 2013? I could be too late, and even if I wasn't, I don't think I could beat Jack Slash, unless my second power could counter him somehow.

I was incredibly hungry, but I needed to know  _ when  _ I was. Luckily, I found my way in front of a newsstand. I simulated myself walking up to it and glancing at a newspaper, specifically, at the date.

**OCT. 15th, 1987**

I stopped moving, staring at those four little numbers. The simulation ended, and I stopped walking. 1. 9. 8. 7. I started walking again, away from the newspaper and the jarring date it had written on it. That was a fresh, shiny newspaper with a date that was a decade before I was even born. There were several people around me, and I didn't want to make a scene, so I made a simulation of me freaking out. It took several simulations, with a bit of walking in-between, until I reached an empty bench and sat on it, feeling much better.

The realization that I had two-and-a-half decades until the end of the world made me feel much, much better. Then I realized that, now that I exist in this world, the date of Gold Morning could be much different. Especially since I was a parahuman, and shards drive their host to conflict. Even without that, there's the butterfly effect; I could buy a coffee and end up causing the end of the world to be a decade early, or worse. I needed to avoid the apocalypse. Considering that I didn't have a power conducive to killing Scion, and he ended up dying anyways, my best bet is to avoid interacting with anyone.

For thirty years. Well, twenty-five or so. Maybe not complete isolation, but I'll have to leave Brockton Bay. I'll have to-

I was suddenly distracted from my thoughts when my eyes caught sight of a small, bright light that seemed to not actually illuminate its surroundings. This light, oddly enough, was  _ inside  _ a person's head. I could simultaneously see the balaclava  _ and  _ the mote of light  _ behind  _ the mask and the flesh. When I looked directly at the light, I could see, clearly, that this was a shard, and its power. This one, it seemed, could fire invisible darts of force that were quite similar to bullets, but with less piercing power. They could manifest the dart in any position within an inch of their skin, and it would launch in a straight line until it hit something.

I blinked. I blinked again. I realized, just then, where I was. It seemed I had sat down right in front of a bank, and that bank just so happened to be in the midst of a bank robbery. By a parahuman. In 1987. With, I think, no PRT or Protectorate.

"Fuck me."

=====

Chapter 2

=====

_ I slowly stood up from the bench, making my way to the bank’s glass front doors. He hadn’t seen me yet, but when I opened the door, his head snapped to me, and the power inside his head brightened as he raised the gun in his hand, aimed it at me- _

Okay, I could make it to the door without him noticing. I proceeded to do so, creating another scenario when I was in front of them.

_ I opened the door, running straight at the man. He noticed me and once more brought his gun up to aim it at me. This time, he fired. But it wasn’t a bullet that hit me in the shoulder joint, dislocating my arm; it seemed he used his power to make it look like he shot at me, how clever. _

_ I stood in front of the door, thinking. After a few seconds, I grinned; I couldn’t resist it, I wanted to play with my superpower. _

_ I opened the door, calling out to the man once I was inside, “Hello, Daniel.” The parahuman just looked at me with obvious confusion, “Sorry, what’s your name?” Then he shot me. _

_ “Hello, Samuel.” Dislocated shoulder. _

_ “Hello, Alex.” Dislocated shoulder again. _

_ I kept repeating these short scenarios, until I chanced upon the man’s name. There was a major sense of satisfaction when I got it right; “Hello, Brian.” the man jolted with surprise, shakily aiming his gun at me. He was more unnerved than I expected, but I guess a stranger saying your name while you rob a bank is worrisome. “Why don’t you put the gun down and come with me?” I suggested, with a friendly smile on my face. Unsurprisingly, he told me to screw off and shot me. _

_ In my next few simulations, I considered my options. I couldn’t get close enough to tackle him and I didn’t have a weapon, so I could only use my words. Unfortunately, I only had several seconds of precognition. If only-  _

_ Oh, wait. My other power. It’s invisible, but maybe it’s some sort of shield? There’s only one way to find out. _

_ I opened the door and strode towards the bank robber. Hm, I just realized that he was threatening one of the tellers before I distracted him. He noticed me, like usual, and raised his gun to “shoot” at me. I saw his power in his head brighten, and I activated my second power. I didn’t consciously think about it, but nonetheless I aimed my power at the man. He fired his invisible bullet, and suddenly his right arm, the one with the gun in it, snapped backwards and out of its socket. _

_ Then I was back at the entrance. Well, I have no choice... _

Time to commit. 

I opened the doors, feeling the déjà vu as he aimed his gun at me and fired his power; like last time, I reflected it. No, I  _ countered _ it. His arm was dislocated and his gun slipped from his grasp as he groaned in pain. 

_ I looked around the bank, taking it in. It wasn’t the biggest bank, with a few tellers and a section that contained a couple open offices, plus a hallway that might have led to a small vault. There were only a few random civilians in here, who were lying flat on the floor with their hands on their head. The tellers had their hands in the air, but now that the man dropped his gun, one of them reached down and pressed. I assume, a panic button. Suddenly, I couldn’t breath. _

_ This time, I kept my attention on the injured parahuman in front of me. Ah, he must have shot me with his power. I watched his power brighten and activated my counter-power. He ended up on the floor, grasping his chest and trying to suck in air. _

I committed to countering his power, and he ended up on the floor as I had seen. I felt a bit bad, watching him writhe while trying to breathe. My eyes darted to the teller and  _ I approached her.  _

_ “Sorry to bother you b-” _

_ “You’re one of them!” She cut me off, backing away from the counter, “The cops are on their way, so don’t try anything!” _

_ I frowned, “I’m one of the good guys,” I looked at the now unconscious parahuman on the floor; shit, he might have a collapsed lung or something. I looked back at the teller, “I think you should also call an ambulance for this guy,” she just kept looking at me, but one of the other tellers picked up an old, landline phone and presumably called for an ambulance.  _

My confusion was probably evident on my face. It felt like my power had lasted longer than the 5 or 6 seconds I had counted before. Not that much longer, maybe a couple extra seconds. There was a clock on a wall, so  _ I watched the time tick. _

  1. _2\. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8._



I was right. My power got  _ stronger _ . That’s… not right. From what I remember, powers are mostly static. They didn’t just  _ improve _ like that. Maybe mine are different? I have no way to know, except to have it increase again. Though, it seems like simply using it doesn’t increase its time. Oh, right. Conflict. That’s the whole schtick.

Fuck; conflict. I just stopped a bank robbery and assaulted a parahuman. I have a worrisome feeling that I’ve already screwed canon. Especially since it’s  _ 1987 _ and I’m in Brockton Bay, so my little act of heroism could have stopped Taylor from being born. Screw it, I’ve already done something fairly impactful to the timeline and I can’t just off myself. I don’t think I can win in this situation. My actions today might have indirectly ended the world, and it would be all my fault...

“Be the change you wish to see,” I mumbled to myself. Wasn’t that a saying or something? Sure, Taylor might still be born, but there’s no way to know and I must have majorly affected the future already. I might as well do what I feel like doing, instead of attempting to avoid butterfly effects.

I give up on worrying about the future, and instead refocus on the present. The civilians were up and about and I could hear sirens in the distance. Shit, I should probably scram. Capes are still new to the world so I don’t know how the police would react to me. My power’s several seconds of precognition weren’t enough for an entire confrontation.

I wasn’t going to risk it; I didn’t have an identity here and I don’t want to find out the consequences of that just yet.

With that in mind, I walked out of the bank, ignoring someone telling me to stay.

=====

I had been walking for several minutes, wondering if I should have just gone with the cops. They might have given me some food for my starving stomach. Eventually I spotted a diner, a potential solution to my hunger and walked towards the front door. 

Wait. Money. One of the many things I don’t happen to have, the most vital thing you need to live in America. What the hell was I supposed to do to make money if I didn’t even exist in this universe? Maybe I could get paid under the table for cleaning or something, but I need money now; I’ve been hungry for a while, but playing with my powers distracted me. Now I’m forced to face my empty stomach. Great.

I must have been standing there for several minutes, making myself frustrated over a lack of money. Eventually I gave up and walked away. Diners weren’t even the best way to eat cheap. I needed to find a-

Ah, perfect. I stood before a convenience store. Great, I had a place to fill my stomach, but I still had no money. Either way, I walked inside and began perusing the various snacks they had. I didn’t really want to steal, but I’m so damn hungry. Besides, one of these bags of nuts isn't that expensive.

_ There was one “old” security camera, but it was focused mainly on the cash register. I grabbed a bag of nuts and put them in my right pants pocket so the cashier wouldn’t see them when I walked out. Then I made my way to the exit- _

_ And encountered a man with a gun. _

_ Second time in less than an hour. _

Shit.

_ I kept my head down and positioned myself so I wouldn’t be seen when the robber entered. Damn, it’s only 1987 and crime is already this shit. Well, I guess it isn’t that surprising. After a couple seconds, the criminal entered, immediately aiming his gun at the cashier and firing a bullet. Fuck. _

_ I did what I did last time, but I moved closer to the door. As soon as he was inside, I surprised myself by my own actions; I kicked the back of his knee and used his own body weight to slam him onto his back, grabbing his left arm while I did and using my foot to get enough leverage to bend his arm the wrong way. He screamed in pain and dropped the gun- _

I picked up the gun, a revolver, and managed to empty the bullets. Then I tossed it a few feet away. I looked at the future-murderer and told him, “Stay down or I’ll snap your other arm.”

I will admit, I felt a bit like a badass. Having power like this feels  _ good _ … But I shouldn’t let it go to my head. Absolute power corrupts absolutely, right?

Dismissing my thoughts, I turned my attention to the cashier, some dude that must have just gotten out of high school. He seemed speechless, staring at me with a gaping mouth. Without a word I grabbed a few bags of nuts and a gallon of water and put the items on the counter. I made sure to step over the bullets; I didn’t want to step on anything that had gunpowder in it.

Wordlessly and with somewhat shaky hands, the young cashier rang up the items and looked at me expectantly.

I looked at him for a moment and he pressed a few buttons on the register before giving me a receipt. My total was $0.00.

“Thanks.” 

=====

There’s gonna be a short time-skip after this chapter, probably.

Chapter 3

I don’t think I need sleep. It was around midnight, and I didn’t feel the slightest bit tired. Maybe it was because of that puddle nap, but it was possible I was a noctis cape. Well, I guess I don’t need to worry about having a place to sleep if that’s the case. 

After that scene at the convenience store, I started walking in a random direction, eating my nuts as I walked. I must have looked weird, eating a bag of mixed nuts while carrying a jug of water and two other nut bags. At least it was quite filling. 

I was initially worried when it became night, before I remembered that I’d be a terrible person to mug. I thought back to my “fight” with that guy and winced. He deserved it, or would have, but it was still ruthless. It wasn’t even my fault, though, I just acted on instincts. How should I know I had the instincts of a savage martial artist?

I’d been walking for a while, aimless. This was not a place I was familiar with; I’ve only lived in towns, never in a city like this. I mean, I’ve visited big cities, but they still weren’t like this one and it was only for a short time. Damn, why couldn’t the PRT just exist already? Then I could go to them as a Case 53 or something and get an identity.

Maybe I could claim to be an immigrant, from Canada? No, I don’t think they would buy it and I still don't have an identity or any proof that I exist. I’ll just have to live life like a vagrant, roaming the streets and fighting crime. Speaking of crime, I think I had wandered into the bad part of town; the buildings looked like shit and I think some gangsters were eyeing me from across the street.

That made me go back the way I came, as I wasn’t in a hurry to see if my power let me dodge bullets. It isn’t paranoia if they’re out to get you.

===== Several Hours Later...

I was near the beach, sitting on a bench as I watched the Sun rise. I really didn’t know what to do; I was incredibly unfamiliar with 1987, I had no money, and I was in Brockton Bay. I wasn’t going to turn to crime, so I couldn’t see an easy way to get money. What a shitty situation.

Fuck it, I’ll just need to find a place willing to hire me under the table. It couldn’t be that hard; it’s Brockton Bay. Ah! I just needed to grab a newspaper. They had job listings, I’m sure. I just had to find that newsstand. I got up from the bench, ready to get shit done.

=====

I was pretty lucky. I mean, I didn’t find a newsstand or anything, but I wandered into the residential area, where I found a newspaper in front of someone’s house. Didn’t seem that secure, but whatever.

_ I picked up the newspaper and took it out of its plastic bag, hurriedly looking for the job listings. After a few seconds I found them. I needed one that seemed shady, or didn’t require previous experience. Ah, a janitorial position for a motel, that could work. I did my best to memorize the ad- _

And I continued walking, having never stopped; no use looking suspicious. The job paid $3.50 an hour, which was probably minimum wage for this area and time. I’d probably have to take less than that, but hopefully it's still enough to get by. 

Well, at least I don’t need a place to sleep, and I imagine I could sneak a shower during janitor duties. In my free time I’ll explore the city, maybe find a library, fight some crime. I can make this work; between working and looking for trouble, I’ll be thoroughly occupied. If I can find a library, or a bookstore, I can read on my off-time. But I’m getting ahead of myself, I haven’t even been hired yet - hell, I still need to find the damn motel.

=====

I kept repeating the address in my head until it was stamped on the back of my eyelids. After two hours of searching (and asking for directions twice), I managed to find the motel.

It looked like a basic, boring motel; there wasn’t anything special about it. There was a pool at least, but the walls were an old off white, and everything else was a shade of pastel blue. It sure wasn’t gonna win any awards for looks, but I guess no one goes to a motel solely for its looks.

The reception area seemed to also be the manager’s office, going by the fact that the woman there had a “MANAGER” tag on her work outfit. She had a tired look on her face, before she quickly put on a “customer service” face.

“Can I help you?” she asked, managing to inject artificial enthusiasm into her voice.

“Yeah, I saw your ad, you’re hiring a janitor, right?” I asked as I approached her desk.

“An ad? Oh, right. I’ll be honest, I completely forgot about that,” she said, looking at a paper on her desk before looking back at me.

“Oh, is the position already filled?” I asked, worried that I wasted all that time looking for this place just to be told it was rigged from the start.

“No, it's just been a while since I posted it. No one wants to clean other people’s messes, apparently,” she shrugged with a small chuckle, “But I’ll hire you,”

I blinked, surprised. Apparently, it was evident on my face.

“What? I’ve been needing a janitor for a month, you don’t look like a drug addict; it’s the best I can get in this city. Honestly, it’s a pain being an employer in this city; most people look for a job in the Docks,” I nodded.

“I guess I understand, but I’m still surprised you’d hire me so quickly,”

“I just need someone to clean up other people’s messes; I’ve had to do it for a month. Some people… ,” she shook her head, a small look of disgust on her face, “I’m not a fan of cleaning, lets just say that,”

I’m also not a fan of cleaning, but money is money, “Well, I can clean. Though, I haven’t worked as a janitor before,” she waved her hand in a dismissive manner.

“I’ll show you what you need to do, don’t worry. But there is some paperwork to do, so you can’t start just yet,” I wanted to explain the fact that I don’t have an identity, but I hesitated. Which, of course, she noticed, “What? Don’t like paperwork?”

“Yes, but...” I thought about how to explain my situation, before I remembered: Powers.

_ “I don’t think it’ll work out,” _

_ She blinked at me, confused, “What do you mean, it won’t work out?” _

_ “I don’t have a home, or an identity, really,” _

_ Her eyebrows furrowed, “How can you not have an identity? Plus, you don’t look ho-” _

No, maybe a different approach:

_ “I technically don’t exist, in a legal manner,” _

_ She blinked, like last time, “What, you’re an immigrant? You sound American, though,” she shook her head, “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I’ll still hire-”  _

Eh, good enough; I don’t want to spend an hour finding the right words.

“-you, but you won’t get as much. I’m taking a risk here, so I expect you to work hard, got it?” I nodded, “I need to finish what I was doing, so come back here in five minutes and I’ll show you what you need to do,”

With that, I left to walk around for a few minutes. That was… easy. It feels like there’s something that I’m missing; did she hire me so quickly because she’s desperate for a janitor? That makes sense, I guess, but it still felt odd.

Oh well, no point putting a gift horse in my mouth, or however that saying goes.

=====

Her instructions weren’t anything too complicated; she gave me a schedule for when to clean, showed me where the washing machines were, and just gave an overview of what to bother cleaning. 

I make about ninety a week, Monday-Saturday, which is enough to survive and even save a little, considering I don’t pay any bills or rent. The manager, Susan, is a nice enough person. She doesn’t ask me any questions that I’d hate to answer and she’s taking the risk of hiring me. I’m quite thankful, so I keep an eye out for trouble, even off shift when I’m still at the motel.

Other than that eventful first day, I have only happened upon one crime in the past 6 days of the 7 I’ve been in this world; some junkie was beating the shit out of a dude in an alleyway I happened to walk by. I used my power, but I didn’t even need to. The junkie was so out of it that he didn’t know I was there until I dislocated his shoulder.

I think I’m sensing a pattern of dislocating shoulders. Oh well, it works. It’s better than giving them brain damage, or breaking a bone. Anyways, I proceeded to help the victim, who was a bit bruised and bloody, but the blood was from a split lip and his nose. I learned that I knew first aid, because I could tell his nose wasn’t broken. He would be fine, and the junkie was on the ground clutching his shoulder, so I decided to leave.

The victim, whatever his name was, just watched me leave in silence. Maybe I should have said something, but I couldn’t think of anything to say.

===== April 1988

Time really flies by. I’ve been here in Brockton Bay, in Worm, for half a year already. It took about a month for the novelty of the situation to properly wear off. I was trapped here, with no choice in the matter; there was a worlds-ending threat here, with up to twenty potential Endbringers and numerous human threats. I don’t know for sure how strong my Counter-power is; that bank robber was the only parahuman I’d seen so far, and while I  _ feel _ like my power does certain things, I don’t have any actual proof.

Suffice to say, I don’t know how safe I am, which is worrisome... but I try not to think about it. On a better note, I’ve been saving up a lot of money. It’s pretty easy when you don’t have anything to spend it on other than food. Also, my precog power goes for thirty-four seconds now, as I’ve been seeking out crimes to stop. It seems like every event of conflict increases my time limit by a couple seconds.

Unfortunately, or fortunately if you’re a normal person, I haven’t encountered much crime. Still, I go for a walk every night, which is what I’m doing right now, keeping a lookout for anything suspicious. Most of the time, though, I’m just left to think about various things.


End file.
